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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177106">11:59</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled'>unsettled</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Midnight [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Consensual Underage Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Kinktober, M/M, POV Tony Stark, Peter's 16 for a few more hours, Quentin Beck Being a Jerk, Snark, Voyeurism, beck never got fired, big mistake tony, tony making mistakes all over the place</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:22:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony had wanted Peter to have some fun before he wasted the rest of his life on Tony. This? This was definitely not the sort of fun Tony had in mind. Or who he would have picked for it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Midnight [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983706</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Unsettled's Kinktober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>11:59</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony hadn't thought it through, what he'd told Peter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, he thought he had, he thought he was being responsible and restrained in the face of Peter throwing himself at Tony like that. He hadn't touched Peter, hadn't told Peter yes. Definitely hadn't bent Peter over the workbench and fucked him right there in the shop, like he wanted to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It made sense for him to tell Peter nothing was happening until he was legal. For both their sakes, that had to be the bare minimum he could hold out for. And it made sense for him to say that Peter needed more experience, needed to know what he'd be missing out on if he shackled himself to Tony— because if he does, Tony's not going to let him go. Just two simple, logical, reasonable rules to slow Peter's roll: when you're seventeen, and when you've had some sex. Good rules, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So how the hell had Peter turned those into </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘This’ being Peter showing up at his door at nine pm on his birthday, with Quentin fucking Beck in tow. ‘This’ being Peter asking if they can come in, if he can talk to Tony. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘This’ being Peter saying, “It’s my birthday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” Tony says. “I mean, yes, I know it’s your birthday, I’m just not clear on what that means in this… context.” He gestures at Beck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter rolls his eyes. “It’s my birthday,” he repeats, “so in about three hours, I won’t be sixteen anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What he’s trying to say,” Beck cuts in, “is that he won’t be jailbait anymore. And that he’s expecting you to want to do something about it, maybe even… celebrate.” And yes, thank you, Tony is well aware of what Peter’s birthday means, well aware that his self control is going to have one more thing testing it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that he’s going to tell Beck that he wants Peter. “I’m sorry,” he says, “why are you here again? Why are you pointing this out?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Beck says. “I know all about your little deal with Peter. He slides his arm around Peter’s waist, tugging him closer— and Peter doesn’t resist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said you wanted me to have a chance to be with someone else,” Peter says. “Well—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you kidding me?” Tony snaps; he can’t believe this. Peter let Beck touch him, have him? He hadn’t gone for someone his age, he’d gone for the creep he’s technically interning for? "You're so fucking fired," Tony tells Beck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You wouldn't," Beck says, too certain. "You'd never be able to shut it up if I talked about this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Quentin," Peter says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You'd still be the one in jail," Tony says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tony!" Peter hisses, glaring at both of them. "No one is talking to anyone about this," he says. "Or blackmailing anyone, or firing anyone. Just— stop it. I—we—came here because—” He hesitates, biting his lip, and he’s turning red. Beck curls his other arm around Peter in a loose hug, and Tony hates how causal his touches are. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you,” he asks Beck, “the moral support? Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Beck says. “Support, at least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter huffs. “I want to kiss you the second I turn seventeen,” he says. “I want— to do a lot more than kiss you, but I want at least that. And then, if you still want to turn me down, I want you to do it knowing exactly what you’re missing out on,” parroting back Tony’s words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kid—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Quentin is here because— because he’s been helping me out.” Beck snorts, softly, amused. “You have,” Peter mutters. Turns back to Tony. “I want you to see me as more than a kid,” he says. “I want to show you— show you what I’ve been learning. How much better I am at stuff. I’m not a dumb little virgin anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were never that,” Tony says. “You don’t have to show me anything, Peter. I don’t— that’s not something I need from you, or want from you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a flash of uncertainty on Peter’s face, breaking through that stubbornness. He looks away from Tony, and opens his mouth, closes it without saying anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on,” Beck says, and he’s definitely getting a kick out of this. “He’s been looking forward to this, all excited about showing off for you. Are you really enough of an asshole to tell him you don’t want it? It’s a good show, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what I meant,” Tony snaps, automatic. “I— Peter, I promise, you don’t have to do a damn thing with him. I’ll kiss you the second after midnight anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter hesitates. “But I kinda want to,” he says, small, and Beck raises his eyebrows at Tony, unimpressed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony kinda wants to too. Fuck, he wants to a lot, watching Peter have any sort of sex might be a distant second to actually having him, but even the thought is still hot as hell. And it’s very clear that Peter wants this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Tony says. “I— alright. Alright, Peter. You… you do whatever you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter sucks in a breath. Smiles. Shit, Tony thinks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck lets go of him, goes to sit down on the couch. “Um,” Peter says, “you— sit there, okay?” pointing at one of the chairs across from it, at a slight angle; Beck smirks at Tony once he sits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why the hell did he pick you,” Tony mutters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Opportunity,” Beck says. “Willingness to go along with his detailed little plan. I’m sure the fact that I’m hot and experienced helps as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And humble,” Tony says. “I should have fired you back when you had that meltdown about names.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck goes still for a second, darker, and that right there is one of the reasons Tony had almost fired him. That edge of something unstable, that he could just snap anytime. “Too late now,” Beck says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, will you two stop fighting?” Peter says. “I thought you were supposed to be the adults.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s gotten his shirt off and is tugging off his shoes, and Tony can’t look away. He’s seen Peter nearly naked before, has been up close and personal even, adjusting the suit, but this is not the same. And he’s never seen Peter’s cock, pretty and pink, twitching as Tony stares. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stands there, frozen for a moment, blushing all down his neck. “Stunning,” Beck says, and he’s watching Peter too. “Don’t you agree?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Tony says, his heart in his throat. “He is. Fuck, Peter, you’re a knockout,” and Peter ducks his head, suddenly shy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s first on the menu, baby?” Beck says, and Peter walks over to him. Lets himself be pulled in, between Beck’s legs, tugged down and kissed. It’s slow, deep, Tony catching the pink of Peter’s tongue slipping into Beck’s mouth, the soft noises of them making out. He’s already hard; this is going to be torture. Peter pulls back and sinks down on his knees, his hands working at Beck’s fly. “Oh, good choice,” Beck says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Watching it, watching Peter’s hands on Beck’s cock, watching him brush his lips against it, nuzzle it, slowly lick it— it’s awful because Tony can’t stand seeing anyone else having Peter; what was he thinking, that he’d somehow be okay with knowing Peter had gone out and had sex before he came back to Tony? It’s awful, and god, it’s so hot. So fucking hot watching Peter’s lips close around Beck’s cock, watching his mouth sink down onto it, his eyes fluttering shut before he looks up at Beck. Tony wants that mouth on him, wants Peter looking at him, but Beck was right; it is a good show.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's good at this," Beck says, smirking at Tony. Thrusts into Peter's mouth, his hand on the back of Peter's head, holding him in place. "You really should thank me for training that gag reflex right out of him," and he shoves Peter down, forcing his cock deep into Peter's throat. Peter takes it without even a flinch, just a small cut off noise, a flex of his back between Beck's legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony's not going to thank him for anything, ever. That this asshole took advantage of Peter, took those experiences with Peter from Tony— there isn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>to thank him for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck looks down at Peter, and even from this angle Tony can see how Peter is looking up, how his eyes are wide and wet. "Isn't he pretty like this?" Beck says. Tony clenches his jaw. Beck lets Peter pull back enough to breath, mouth still on Beck's cock, and looks back to Tony. "Aren't you going to answer?" he asks, and no, Tony's not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Or maybe you don't agree," Beck goes on, "maybe you don't think there's anything pretty about him sucking cock. Are there some other words you're thinking of for it? Slutty? Filthy? Don't you think he wants to know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter's eyes have closed, and he's stopped moving, just letting Beck rest in his mouth. Fuck, of course Tony doesn't want Peter to think he's disgusted by this. "He's gorgeous," Tony says, and it hurts, the way Peter's eyes fly open, the way his gaze darts to Tony. "You're very, very pretty like that, Peter."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just made for it," Beck agrees. "Why don't you show him what he's in for, honey?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony shuts his eyes for a moment, trying to resist the urge to yank Peter away from Beck, kick Beck out and tell him to start running. "Look at him, Tony," Beck snaps. "He likes to be watched; you're not going to hurt his feelings, are you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're a bastard," Tony tells him, but he watches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter does seem to like being watched, because he blushes even darker when he realizes Tony's eyes are him, puts a little more into the blowjob he's giving Beck. A really, really good blowjob from the looks of it, Beck leaning back and letting Peter do all the work. He doesn't have to say a thing to Peter, apparently, and Tony hates what that suggests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter moans as he sucks Beck, bobbing his head and sinking down all the way on his cock, spit dripping from the corner of his mouth. Pulls back and teases him, his hand slowly stroking the shaft while he toys with the head, pink tongue licking at it, his lips red, wet, and Tony can't fucking look away. He really is gorgeous like this. Every bit of him, every naked inch kneeling between Beck's legs, pale and lean, well muscled but still in that slightly gangly stage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony should have said yes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter pulls back, kissing the tip as he looks up at Beck. "Can I?" he says, "Please?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you think, Tony?" Beck asks. "Can he touch himself while he does this?" Peter looks over at Tony, and how is Tony supposed to say no.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah," he says hoarsely. "Go on, kid. I want to see you come before he does." Beck laughs, and Peter shudders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't been able to look away from Peter's mouth, and now he can't stop watching Peter's hand, Peter's cock, dark and dripping with precome. His hips buck into it as he strokes himself, not wasting any time, and Tony actually considers telling him to slow down, to draw it out. Tony wants to see the whole progression of it, wants to watch every expression Peter makes while he gets himself off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He'll have his chance, he tells himself. He'll have plenty of opportunities to tell Peter to jerk off, put on a show for Tony, and it looks like Peter's going to love that. He tells himself that, over and over as he watches Peter come even faster than Tony thought he would, gets to hear those perfect sounds and see the way his face goes lax, how his cock twitches and none of it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it is at Tony's hand. This isn't the way he wanted to discover those things for the first time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's still beautiful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter's barely finished coming when Beck grabs his head and starts fucking into his mouth; he makes a sharp, startled sound, jerking at Beck's grip, and then just relaxes into it. Takes the brutal face fucking from Beck like it's nothing, eyes fluttering shut and Tony wants Peter on his cock like that, wants him barely breathing around it. Wants to pull out just like Beck and come on Peter's face, watch his come drip down Peter's cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck takes a few long, shuddering breaths and then his hand is in Peter's hair, tilting his head toward Tony. "Like what you see?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck, yes," Tony says, and Peter's eyes open, just a bit, come clinging to his eyelashes. "You look amazing, Peter. Look so fucking good on your knees, so good with a cock in your mouth; I knew you would. So hot when you come, can't wait to have you under me. Wish it wasn't him," and Tony flicks a glance at Beck, still looking smug, "but I could watch you suck cock for hours."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tony," Peter whispers, shuddering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peter,” Tony says, helplessly. “God, Peter, you’re— who could possibly look away from you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s more like it,” Beck says. “You really should appreciate him more, Tony. You’re getting something really special here without even trying. Lucky bastard.” Peter moans, very softly, looking at Tony with this stunning expression, soft and open and so desperate; Tony wants him looking just like that his cock, not Beck’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck gets Peter turned around, still kneeling but settled back against Beck's legs, leaning into it. "Toss me his shirt," he says, and Tony throws it at his face, Beck managing to catch it before it connects. Laughs, like this is fucking funny. He slips his hand into Peter's hair and tugs his head back a bit, wiping the come off his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Take five, baby," Beck says, and Peter hums, resting his head on Beck's thigh and staring at Tony. Beck's petting him, hand sliding slowly though Peter's hair, and it's a fucking nightmare that Beck knows what that feels like and Tony doesn't. "You see?" Beck says. "He likes it a little rough. A lot rough, sometimes, so don't worry about hurting him. Don't worry when he cries," and Tony glares at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck's looking down at Peter, though, and then Tony is too. He's turning red again as Beck talks, but he's not denying anything, and not looking away from Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck's hand trails down Peter's neck, hook around the front and pulling him back; Peter's head tips back, exposing the whole of his throat to Beck's hand. "He's a little embarrassed by it," Beck says, "but he's an awfully sweet submissive too. Aren't you, honey?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter looks up at him, his expression soft, open. "Yes, sir," he says, and Jesus Christ, Tony had no idea how much he wants Peter to say that to him. Peter likes it too, not just giving it lip service judging by the way his cock is getting hard again. Beck smiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm going to miss you," he says. "You've been a lot of fun, baby." He looks up, catching Tony's eye, a smirk growing slowly on his face. "Guess I'd better make sure the last time makes up for it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You'd better," Tony says. "Because you're never touching him again after this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck rolls his eyes. "Please," he says. "You're the one that sent him to me. Don't bother with the threats; I knew when this was going to end."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I— I did not fucking send him to you!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Keep telling yourself that," Beck says. "Come on, Peter," he adds, tugging at Peter's hair. "Up, honey." Peter crawls up into his lap, straddling him, resting his head against Beck's shoulder. "Want me to tell him?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter rolls his head enough to see Tony, barely catch his eyes, and nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You sent him to me," Beck says, "with your insistence that he try out someone else before he could have you. You should have known how stubborn he is; four months until he turns seventeen isn't a lot of time to get that fully checked off."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That was not what I meant!" Tony says, christ. He'd thought— if Peter was as awkward as he can be about finding someone for that requirement, Tony might have a whole year more to get things under control. He'd never meant for Peter to go out and find the nearest person interested in jailbait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Come back when you've gotten a couple fucks in," Beck says. "Does that ring any bells?" and okay, maybe Tony could have phrased that better; he may have been a little drunk. "And Peter— what was it you said, sweetheart? That you weren't sure Tony would take your word for it, that it might be better to give a demonstration of how good you are at being fucked?" Peter's face is bright, bright red, burrowed into Beck's neck, but he nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So," Beck says. "There's some lube in his backpack; toss it over and we'll get on with it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony snaps. "Peter, kid, you don't have to do this, I didn't— it was never just about you having sex with someone before me. It was— I wanted you to go out and have some fun first."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not fun?" Beck says, just as Peter huffs and turns his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I did have fun," Peter says. "And you're totally fun, don't even pretend you're hurt."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're not fun," Tony tells Beck. "You're a creep, a predator."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You really think waiting a few hours before you fuck him makes you any different?" Beck shakes his head. "Bet you were proud of yourself for making him wait a few months, like it makes you more moral than me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He is more moral than you," Peter mutters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, sure," Beck says. "But he's no saint. Now— lube, if you don't mind." His hand slides down Peter's back, squeezing his ass. "Unless you want to watch him take it dry? He will, you know."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't— fuck!" This isn't something Tony can stop, something he can keep from happening. It won't matter what he tells Peter now; Peter's too stubborn to back down. Still, he's furious as he goes to Peter's backpack, digs out the lube all the way at the bottom. Slaps it down on Beck's palm and doesn't let go right away. "What are you even getting out of this? You like being watched?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No," Beck says, raising an eyebrow. "That's what Peter gets off to. Just like you're going to wind up coming from watching." Peter glances at Tony over his shoulder, unsure, hopeful. "I just like screwing with people," Beck says. "And screwing them; I get the best of both and Peter's tight little ass too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, Tony wants to punch him. Or fire him. Or both.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go sit," Beck says. "Don't you want a better view? Trust me, it'll be worth it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You'll see," Peter says, quietly. "I'm so much better than I was before. I can make you feel good."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony can't even start on that. Later, he decides. Later, when Beck isn't smirking at him like he's about to laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's got a perfect view when he's back in his chair and Beck knows it. Doesn't even do anything more than pet Peter for a bit, kneading his ass, and pulling his cheeks apart, showing off that tight pink hole. God, Peter's a wet dream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's unbearable, watching this. Watching Beck slick Peter up, slip one finger into him. Watching him whisper something to Peter, Peter nodding, and then rolling his hips, fucking himself onto it, slowly. Fucking unbearable as Beck takes his time, waiting until Peter is whining for it before he gets two in him, kissing him as he fingers Peter open. Unbearable how Tony can't look away from Beck's fingers sliding in and out of Peter's hole, how it clenches around them, relaxes, slick and stretched out by the time Beck's up to three, hooking his fingers inside Peter and pulling his hole open, showing off the gape of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck knows, too, knows how Tony is watching, how Tony is so hard and can't catch his breath, wanting to touch Peter more than anything. Wanting to fuck him, even if it's just like that, even if he has to put up with Beck on the other side. "You like that?" Beck says and Peter nods, but Beck was looking at Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So pretty like this, honey," Beck says, spreading his fingers in Peter. "Gonna get you so stretched out we could both fit in you, wouldn't you love that." Peter moans, pushing back onto Beck's fingers. "He's watching you," Beck says, softer, "looking right at you, baby, looking at your sweet ass all stretched out around me. Can't look away, in fact, not even to glare at me. Can you, Tony?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck off," Tony says, but it's true. "Of course I'm looking at him. You look like something straight out of my dreams, kid."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter gasps, clinging to Beck. "I told you," Beck says. "I told you he'd want to watch just as much as he wants to fuck you. Bet you he’ll find some way to watch you squirming on some else’s cock again, when I’m gone.” He laughs; smirks at Tony and nips Peter’s ear. “Bet you he’ll wind up begging me to get my cock in you if I take much longer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll wind up begging,” Peter mumbles and Beck grins. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, you will,” he says. “You always do, sweetheart.” He tips Peter’s head back and kisses his neck. “I won’t make you this time,” Beck says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls his fingers out, slow, watching Tony, and there’s a perfect second where Peter’s ass gapes open, ready for fucking. “God, Peter,” Tony whispers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s clumsy when Beck urges him him, gets him turned around and kneeling over his thighs, facing Tony. Pulls Peter up, his hands on Peter’s hips, and if Tony wanted, he could have a perfect view of Beck’s cock pushing into Peter’s ass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he’s watching Peter’s face. Watching all those shifts in his expression as he sinks down, his breath catching before he moans, and he doesn’t pause even once before he’s settled on Beck’s lap. Peter likes this, loves it judging by the way he starts rocking on Beck’s cock immediately, and Tony really, really likes watching Peter enjoy himself. He always has, so why would this be any different. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s different. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, honey,” Beck says, his breath shuddering out. “Fuck, you feel so good. Just like that, yeah,” pressing his mouth against Peter’s shoulder, his hands digging into Peter’s sides. Peter’s eyes are closed, and the spread of his body like this is too much, Tony can’t— he just can’t anymore. He’s got his pants open and his cock out before another breath has passed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter must have heard him doing so, because his eyes open and fix immediately on Tony’s hand, wrapped around his cock. His mouth drops open and his gaze darts up, catching Tony’s. Fuck, this is already the hottest thing Tony’s ever seen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s even better view, isn’t it,” Beck says, his voice lower, rougher. “Irresistible, I’d say.” Peter’s still staring at Tony, completely fixated on him, but he still shivers, his hips jerking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Tony says, his mouth dry. Completely irresistible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck turns his head, his lips right beside Peter’s ear. “See?” he says. “I told you he’d like it, but you can see for yourself. Look at him, he can’t take his eyes off you.” Peter whines, his eyes huge, hungry. “Can’t keep his hand off his cock, watching you. Isn’t that what you wanted, baby?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter nods, loosely. Starts to push himself up, to ride Beck’s cock, but Beck stops him, holds him in place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” he tells Tony, “I can make him come, just like this. Don’t even need to fuck him, just tell him how good he is, how good he looks. Wanna try?” He smirks, knowing perfectly well he’s offering Tony something that can’t be turned down. “I know you’ve got plenty to tell him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony?” Peter says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, Peter, of course I do,” Tony says, tightening his hand on his cock. “You don’t have a clue how fucking hot you are, how good you look like this. Just— look at you, showing off for me, flaunting yourself— of course I’m going to want to see you like this again. Look at how you love being filled up and watched, it’s all over you how much you need it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, he does,” Beck says. “He’s such a needy little thing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take care of that for you,” Tony tell him, promises him. “I’ll give you everything you need, kid, every last thing. I can’t wait to get my mouth on you; bet you taste just as good as you look.” Peter whimpers, his cock jerking, dark and twitching with every beat of Peter’s heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so tempting,” Tony whispers. “So tempting all the time, god. All you have to do it look at me—fuck, yeah, just like that—and all I can think about is touching you. Getting you on my cock one way or another and making you come and kissing every inch of you.” He swallows, because he shouldn’t have been thinking like this as long as he has. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have no idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you,” he says. “Bet you didn’t have to ask him twice to get him to fuck you. I mean, look at you; who wouldn’t want that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t,” Peter says, nearly sobs. “You didn’t, Tony, you told me to go find someone else!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stupid,” Beck mutters, and yeah, it was incredibly stupid, even if he thought it was the smart option at the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t because I didn’t want you, kid,” Tony says, and fuck, he didn’t want to hurt Peter. “Of course I wanted you, of course I still do. Does this look like I don’t want you? Does anything about this make it seem like I’m not dying to get my hands on you? Christ, Peter; I just wanted better for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Peter says, stubborn to a fault. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not,” Beck says. “You have terrible taste, sweetheart.” He looks at Tony, the smirk faded away, flushed and dark eyed and there’s that edge that had almost made Tony fire him, the hint of something wrong with him. “You think you’re better than me,” Beck says. “But he picked me too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then it’s gone, that instability tucked away, assholishness back in full force. “What are you going to do with him first?” Beck asks. “What’s first on the agenda when it’s your turn?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s looking at Tony too, and it’s easy to answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First?” Tony says. “First I’m going to fuck him, finally come in him and fill him up.” Peter moans, and starts whispering ‘fuck’ under his breath, soft and constant. “And then I’m going to get him to tell me every single thing you did to him, so I can replace those memories. So I can wipe away every trace of you off him, make him all mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck laughs while Peter stares, wide eyed. “Should have known you were the jealous type,” Beck says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think he made you feel good?” Tony says to Peter. “You think he taught you things, made you beg, made you cry? It’s going to seem like nothing compared to what I can do to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like the sound of that, hmm?” Beck says, his hand coming up to Peter’s throat, just resting against it, framing the rapid pulse at his neck. “Almost there, aren’t you,” Beck adds, like it isn’t obvious from the way Peter’s squirming, moaning, his cock dripping down on their thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Peter whispers, “please— Quentin—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck looks at Tony, that disgustingly smug expression on his face again. “Go on, Tony,” he says. “You tell him to come.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter gasps, and then it’s Tony’s name he’s saying, Tony he’s begging. Fuck, he’s supposed to have Peter coming here, not himself. He squeezes his cock, like watching Peter come isn’t going to end up ruining him. “Come on, Peter,” Tony says. “I want to see you come, want you to let me see you like that.” Peter shudders, his hands clawing at Beck’s legs. “Give it to us,” Tony says, hoarsely. “Now, baby.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god,” Peter gasps, “oh— fuck!” and he’s arching back against Beck, jerking as comes all over his chest, almost up to his neck. Tony groans, struggling to hold back but fuck, he wants to save this, wants to wait until he can come in Peter. Doesn't know if he can because look at Peter, just look at him, so hot Tony can barely stand it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck barely gives him a second to recover, pulling Peter’s ass up and fucking into him, short hard thrusts, Peter making broken little noises at each one, his eyes nearly shut. He looks just as good like this, done in and limp in Beck’s hold, being had like that, fucked like a toy. Maybe Tony will fuck him up against a mirror someday, make Peter watch himself like this, see what Tony does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were perfect,” Beck’s saying, quiet, like it’s just for Peter, “so perfect, honey, you’ve got us wrapped around your finger. God, Peter, you’re such a sweet fuck, such a good time every single— every, always so good.” Peter’s hand drops to his side, pressing it down over Beck’s. Beck groans, burying his face in Peter’s shoulder, his arm sliding around Peter’s stomach and holding him close. “You’re going to get every last thing you want and you deserve it; fuck, fuck!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s obvious when he comes, the face Peter makes at it almost as good as when he’d gotten off. He gives his affection so easily, is so careless with it. Beck doesn’t deserve it at all, but he’s still got it, there in the way Peter’s fingers link with his, the way Peter’s hips twitch, dragging out Beck’s orgasm, the way Peter tips his head back and kisses Beck, slow and lazy, soft. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They make out like that for a bit, Peter lifting himself off Beck’s cock and turning in his lap a little more, Beck’s arm around his back. Tony tries to get a handle on himself, wrestle back at least a little of his self control. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy, honey?” Beck’s saying, one hand stroking Peter’s thigh. “Was it as good as you hoped, hmm?” Peter doesn’t say anything, just nods, and Tony really likes that goofy smile spreading across Peter’s face. Beck glances at Tony, laughs softly. “Look at that, baby,” he says, nodding at Tony. “Still desperate for you, hard as a rock. You’ve got no idea how hard he’s been trying to keep from coming, watching you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grins, catching Tony’s eyes. “I think he wants to wait until he can do it in you,” Beck says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously, fuck off,” Tony says, but he’s not wrong. “Of course I want that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ohmigod,” Peter mutters, “I— that’s—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a muffled sound from Peter’s backpack, some sort of song like he’s getting a call. Peter’s eyes snap to it, but he doesn’t move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, sweetheart,” Beck says. His hand slides down to the small of Peter’s back, gives him a little shove, Peter almost falling off his lap. “Time’s up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A call, Tony thinks as the song keeps playing, or an alarm. Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stands, awkwardly, and stares at Tony, all his nerves back in full force, like he hadn’t just listened to Tony saying exactly what he was about to do to him. “He’s all yours now,” Beck says, giving Peter another little push. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter’s frozen, and Tony feels a little stuck in place too, so much resting on this moment, on what he does next. He could still— still tell Peter no, not now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peter,” he says. “Come here,” and his lap is full of Peter before he can even blink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their first kiss shouldn’t be like this, Peter already naked and fucked, Beck laughing in the background, both of them too desperate to be anything other than messy and harsh; shouldn’t be, but it is, and Tony will take it. </span>
</p>
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